


you were an island to discover

by rories



Category: Whiskey Cavalier (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Almost Kiss, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 02:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19122754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rories/pseuds/rories
Summary: Five times Frankie pushed Will away and one time she pulled him in.





	you were an island to discover

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by a prompt on the discord. it didn't quite fit the prompt, but i tried lol. i've been saying i'll write WC fic since march but i'm the slowest bitch alive. i also have a very large fic in the works, but i felt like i should get something out there. 
> 
> title from coldplay's 'warning sign' which felt fitting considering the theme of this fic.

**_the self reliant push_ **

Frankie’s not sure how it happened, but somehow the whole group has found themselves out at a small pub, doing the same thing they usually do at The Dead Drop, just with different seating and booze they actually have to pay for. 

She doesn’t know whose idea it was to come here, but she’s not entirely turned off by the turn of events. The music is loud enough that they have relative privacy at the table they’ve found toward the back, but not loud enough to be a distraction. 

The team has been there for a while already, starting with individual drinks before buying drinks for each other. Jai, Susan, and Frankie are taking turns buying the most girly looking drinks and having them delivered to Ray. At first it was to embarrass him, but they’d quickly realized that he doesn’t seem all that embarrassed by it at all, which took a little of the fun out of it. After the third cocktail, he’d started collecting the little umbrellas, tucking two behind his ears and the third in the buttonhole of his jacket. 

Looking around, Frankie can see her whole team laughing, faces red from the warmth of the bar and the buzz of the alcohol. She can’t help the warmth that spreads through her chest as she looks at this group of people she’s grown to care about before shaking her head and standing. 

“I’m getting another round,” she says, grabbing the back of the chair she just stood from. Her vision is just a touch swimmy and she can’t help but laugh a little at her obvious tipsiness. “But that should probably be the last one.” 

She ignores the groans behind her as she turns and heads to the bar. The pub isn’t super busy tonight, but there’s enough people that she has to wait for a spot to open at the bar. She leans heavily against the wood, ignoring the couple to her left and avoiding eye contact with the man to her right that eyes her up and down. 

After signaling to the bartender for another round, she turns and looks back at her team. Ray must be telling some story about Will because his hands are waving, one of the umbrella’s half fallen from his ear, and Will has his head in his hands. But her partner is laughing, so she thinks that whatever story Ray is telling can’t be that bad and she’s glad she no longer needs to threaten Ray’s life every now and again for what he did to Will. 

Will looks up at her then, green eyes bright, even from across the room, and gives her a look of faux desperation. She can’t help the smile that crawls across her face as she watches him grin and jerk his head back to say hello. 

“That ya boyfriend?” the man next to her slurs and when Frankie looks at him, he’s turned more towards her. 

Frankie doesn’t say anything, just gives the man a dirty look before turning back to the bar. 

“I saaaiiiid, is that your boyfriend?”

She wonders if the bartender is deliberately taking his time getting her drinks because there’s no way it should take this long for six shots of tequila. 

“Take that as a ‘no’ then,” the man continues and leans towards her. Frankie turns to glare at him again, but when she turns his body is inches from her. She has no room behind her to lean back very far, but she does her best to put some space between them. “If thas the case,” the man slurs, “why don’t you ‘n me get outta here?” 

“Piss off,” Frankie says and grimaces in his direction. There’s no way she’s going to turn her back on him, but she does her best to ignore him while silently begging the bartender to hurry with their drinks. 

“Aww, don’t be like that,” the man says and before she can stop him, he tries to slide his arm around her waist, almost sliding off the bar stool. She grabs his arm as it settles on her hip, gripping his wrist tightly and using it to spin him around, slamming him into the bar and wrenching his arm up behind him. 

“I said piss off,” Frankie growls in his ear before letting him go and stepping back. She can see some of the other bar patrons have stopped and are staring now, but she pays them no mind, just looks back at the bartender. 

“You bitch,” the drunkard mutters, straightening himself and turning toward her, shuffling a little in his drunkenness. 

She’s been a spy long enough, and the man is so drunk that she clocks his movements without worrying. He telegraphs his wild swing and she ducks it without flinching and her plan had been to spin around and clock him in the jaw. Instead, she sees a hand fly up near her and grab the drunk man’s hand in mid air and use it to push him backwards. When she turns, Will is standing there, an angry look on his face as he pushes the drunk back onto the bar stool. 

“What did you just call her?” he says and his form somehow gets larger, towering over the other man. 

Frankie thinks for a second that the other guy will finally back off, but he must be drunker than she thought because he rights himself against the bar, a little shorter than Will, but attempting to be intimidating. “I called her a bitch cuz she’s bein a lil bitch!” 

Frankie’s vision goes red but before she can say anything, Will is moving forward, his hands clenched into tight fists. She’s quick enough that she’s able to put herself between the two men and she pushes Will back a few steps. She’s a strong woman and has pushed him in many ways, but she knows that he just allows her to push him away now. 

Once he’s back a few steps he looks down at her, his face still angry; she matches his look with one of her own. She watches as he looks down further, at her hands that are resting on his chest still, and raises an eyebrow. Frankie rolls his eyes at him and pushes him a little more before dropping her hands from his chest. 

“I can handle this,” she says and he takes another step back from the bar, holding his hands up in faux surrender. She spins slowly on her toe and steps back to the drunken patron. Where he didn’t look scared of Will only moments before, there must be something in Frankie’s face that scares him because he stumbles back heavily, a look of fear on his own face. 

Frankie makes no moves to hide what she’s planning on doing, her hand forming into a fist as she pulls it back. She watches as the man holds a hand up to his head in hopes to block the punch he knows is coming, which is exactly what she’s hoping he would do. Instead of aiming for his head, she changes the trajectory of her punch, aiming down and right for the man’s dick. 

She lands a solid punch and she hears the intakes of breaths and the oohs from the other bar patrons as the man collapses in pain at the base of the bar, grabbing at his crotch with both hands as she stands over him. “Watch your language,” she says to him before grabbing someone’s cocktail from the bar and tossing it on him, setting the glass back on the bar delicately, and turning on her toe again to head back to Will. 

“Told you I could handle it.” 

 

**_the defiant push_ **

Will and Frankie have been fighting for ten minutes. They fight a lot, but this one seems to be one of the worse ones, so bad that the rest of the team has either left The Dead Drop completely or, in the case of Jai and Standish, have hidden themselves in the ‘secret lair.’ 

“...it was reckless and stupid and if you ever do anything like that again, Frankie, I’ll pull you from field duty so fast-”

“You have no authority to do that, we are co-leaders of this team, you are not my boss!”

“You could have died!”

“We could all die every day! It’s the job, Will! Don’t treat me like a child!” 

“Then don’t do things that get you shot!” 

If anyone were watching them, they’d be able to see the two of them, inches apart from each other’s faces, red faced and breathing hard. 

“At! I got shot at! If I hadn’t done what I did, you’d be bleeding out or dead right now. So, don’t!” she pauses to push a finger into his chest, ignoring the offended look he shoots her way. “Tell! Me! What! To! Do!” 

Will waves his hands at hers, pushing them away, but not backing down from her. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do,” he says, his voice still angry but no longer yelling. “And I’m sorry, I know I can’t pull you from field work. But you have GOT to be more careful in the field.” 

“Will, I’m just doing my job-” she starts, but he cuts her off. 

He drops his gaze from her, shaking his head. “I know, I know, but...you got hurt because of me.” 

“No, I got hurt because Przybyszewski had shitty aim,” she says back, perfectly saying their target’s last name without any issues. “It’s literally just a scrape. It could have happened to anyone!”

“It shouldn’t have happened at all! It was stupid and reckless and it can’t happen again!” His voice is raised again.

“But it is going to happen again, Will! That’s the nature of the job. We always get shot at or beat up or caught in explosions. It’s not fun, but I’m used to it.” 

Will deflates at that, his shoulders slumping forward at her words and heaving a heavy sigh. It breaks his heart a little bit that she is so nonchalant about dying, about leaving him behind. They’ve been partners for awhile now and he thought that she held their partnership in higher regard than this. 

“You’re used to it,” he says and shakes his head. “That’s what terrifies me, Frankie. You have so little disregard for your life.” 

“Maybe,” she says and she’s still incensed but her voice is lower now. “But I have a lot of regard for yours.” 

The shock must be evident on his face but she ignores it in favor of pushing past him with one hand and striding toward the door. She hesitates at the doorway and turns back, waiting for him to look up. “Don’t ever tell me what to do again.” 

 

**_the undercover push_ **

Katelyn and Marcus Jensen are their undercover names for this mission. A newlywed couple that’s booked their honeymoon at a hotel and spa in Buenos Aires that Director Casey tells them is a front for a drug smuggling ring. The small silver ring on Frankie’s finger feels foreign and she twists it in circles as Will checks them into their room. 

It doesn’t take long for them to head up to their rooms and Frankie takes a moment to set up their shared laptop as Will checks out the bathroom. “Jeez, the tub is huge,” he says, stepping out and unpacking his suitcase. She’s known him long enough to know that one of the first things he’ll do is hang up his shirts so they don’t get too wrinkled. She also knows he’ll do the same to hers. 

“Hey,” she says and when he looks up from the suitcase on the bed, she tosses him an earpiece, grinning when he has to drop the shirt he’s pulling out to catch it. It’s only a few moments later that the comms come online, just in time for Will and Frankie to hear Jai and Standish arguing over who gets the bed closest to the window. 

Frankie shoots a look at Will and they stare at each other for a moment before Frankie turns back to the computer to hit the mute button without a word. 

Once Will is satisfied that their clothes will only really need a cursory ironing, the two of them head to the bar that’s poolside. The information they’ve gathered is that the bar is a daily stop for the head of the cartel. Across the pool Frankie can see Ray and Susan, Ray dressed as a hotel employee bringing Susan a drink and chatting amicably. Jai has been hired on as a bartender, so she barely shares a look at him as they settle on two of the bar stools. Standish is back in his room, checking the security cameras in order to give them a heads up when their mark is there. 

Frankie’s glad they’ve dressed for the weather, because she is hot even in a bikini and a sheer sarong wrapped around her waist and she can see how the heat has already affected Will in the spots of sweat on the back of his t-shirt. 

Will orders them two drinks from the other bartender that isn’t Jai and then they wait, making casual conversation with each other and keeping an ear open for Standish’s signal. Frankie keeps up appearances by resting her hand on Will’s bicep occasionally as he speaks and playing the part of the newlywed wife when he leans in to whisper something in her ear. 

It doesn’t take much time until Standish lets them know that their target is on the way to the bar. Frankie turns to rest her back against the bar, looking out over the crowd around the pool and then notices that there’s no bar stools left. She pulls Will from his seat as soon as their mark is close and he fits himself between her knees in front of her, ever the doting husband. 

She ignores the goosebumps that crawl across her skin as her knees press against his hips and his hands find purchase on her waist. From the way Will is leaning against her she can look over his shoulder as the drug smuggler makes his way to the bar, taking the seat Will just vacated. The smile on her face is real, but it’s adding to the facade of them as a couple and she adds in a cheerful laugh. 

Will’s mouth is against her neck and it causes a shiver to travel down her body when he whispers “Ready?” against her skin, but she nods and takes a breath. “Marcus!” she shouts to her “husband” with her voice high and tone faux offended before she giggles and pushes Will away from her. 

She watches as Will stumbles to the side, making it look natural but she knows he’s in total control, landing on their mark with an apology following. 

“Oh gosh, man, I’m so sorry!” Will says, Marcus’ midwestern accent taking over. He rights himself and slaps his hand on the other man’s shoulder. Frankie knows what’s coming, but she can see by the drug dealer’s face that he is oblivious to Will placing the micro tracker under the man’s collar. “She’s very pushy,” Will says, pointing his thumb at Frankie who pretends to be embarrassed, tugging Will back over to her. “Handsy,” he continues and Frankie pulls harder, pinching his side at the comment. He jerks under her hand and apologizes again before getting the bartender’s attention. “Bartender, this man’s next drink is on me!” he tells him, clapping the man on the back one last time before turning to Frankie. “Come on, Katie-bug, we’ll be late for our massage.” 

Frankie mutters out a quiet apology and then let’s Will pull her from the bar stool, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and leading her away. As soon as they are out of earshot, Frankie pinches his side again, harder this time and he knocks her hip with his in his effort to get away. “Katie-bug?” she asks incredulously. He gives her a lopsided grin again that she returns with a glare as they continue walking. “I’ll kill you in your sleep.” 

 

**_the reluctant push_ **

Will and Frankie have been sparring for about an hour now, trading blows and trying to drop the other in various leg sweeps and flips. If they were keeping score, they’d be neck and neck on take downs, but of course they aren’t. But Frankie is ahead. By quite a bit. 

Will’s also been trying to get her to reveal more about her past every time they reset. She very carefully avoids talking about her childhood and her parents, but she tells him about some of the cases she took on before her time in the CIA and a few of the places she’s visited over the years. 

He offers up information about himself like he thinks she’s writing his biography. He talks about his parents as he comes at her with a right-left-right and talks about his siblings as he attempts to sweep her legs. He tells her more about himself than he has in the past, even as she flips him over her back and to the mat with a loud ‘oof’ from him. 

Frankie indulges him for a bit and honestly, listening to him talk about his family is kind of nice, but eventually she realizes that the stories he’s telling are bringing up feelings she’d rather not have. 

“Stop talking,” she says, interrupting a story about a summer bonfire and swinging wildly at his head, a punch that he ducks easily. Will snaps his mouth shut and looks confused for a second, that golden retriever look that he’s perfected. 

“What, why?” he asks, feinting to the left and trying to catch her off guard. He must be tired though because he telegraphs his moves and she follows them easily. 

“Because you’ve been talking for forty five minutes,” she replies, dropping back on her left foot to pivot around him, grabbing his wrist and pulling it behind him. 

“Only because you won’t talk at all.” He spins around and twists his hand free, using the momentum to push her backwards with his hands on her wrists, attempting to throw off her footing. 

“We’re fighting, not flirting,” she says, knocking a foot against his knee, trying to use his weight against him. 

“Why can’t we do both?” he asks. Frankie wasn’t expecting that question and it makes her stumble which he uses his advantage, using her own move against her and knocking her knee to take her down. She goes down quickly, but recovers enough that she’s able to flip them around and land on top of him, holding his wrists down against the mat. 

Her knees rest on either side of his hips and she’s reminded of their time in Rome dismantling a bomb, only this time there’s not an explosive in between them. At least, not physically. In fact, right now, there’s not much between them at all, just an inch or two of air between his lips and hers. 

Her gaze lingers on his face, taking in the lines and planes of it, red and sweaty but still so handsome. She won’t deny her attraction to him and he’s made no secret how he feels about her. They’re both breathing hard from their sparring and she can feel his stomach rising and falling beneath where she’s still sitting him. 

It would be easy enough to drop another inch and press her lips against his. She’s tempted to do it, to drop down that last inch and kiss him, but she hesitates, the tip of her nose brushing against his skin. 

He must see the hesitation on her face because he quickly wraps a leg around both of hers and flips them with ease. He holds his body over hers, his hands on the mat on either side of her head and she wraps her fingers around the bunching muscles of his forearms. 

She can’t hide the shudder as he lowers his body against hers and she shifts slightly so his hips settle in the V of her legs. She moves her hands from his forearms to his ribs as he lowers himself further, onto his elbows above her. 

She’s not surprised that they’re here. They’ve been working towards this moment for months, since that first meeting in the bar all that time ago. Frankie breathes out a shaky breath and watches Will’s face. His eyes really are a great shade of green, like jades in the sunlight. 

Frankie is not shocked by what she sees on his face. Will has always been an open and expressive man, something that she has always been against in her own personality. But looking at him now, as he stares at her with such open affection and want, it does two things to her. 

One, it makes a spot in her abdomen flutter and warm as his eyes flick from her own down to her mouth and back again. 

Two, it scares the absolute shit out of her. 

He knows her better than she thinks and he must see the slight shift in her facial expression because he gives her a look of confusion and says her name so softly that the sound doesn’t even leave their space. 

That sound is enough to shake her though and, before he can realize, she moves her hands from his ribs to his chest, pushing up with most of her strength. 

Frankie knows he lets her push him away and she’s thankful he’s allowed her that, but she still avoids eye contact as she scrambles up from the mat. 

As she gets to the door of the training room, she has to resist the urge to look back, but her hand still hesitates for a moment as she hears him say her name one last time. 

The door slamming behind her as she leaves is drowned out by the echo of his voice in her head. 

 

**_the saving push_ **

Their case takes them to Reykjavik and Will quickly falls in love with the city. He loves the architecture and the food and he waxes poetic about it for the entire walk to the hotel. Frankie lets him because she knows as soon as they’re settled, he’ll fall easily into work mode and focus on the case. 

It’s a chemical weapons manufacturer this time and Frankie is getting really tired of these people who only want money or destruction and nothing else. Her faith in humanity was already low and every scumbag she goes up against just makes her tired and angry. 

It doesn’t take long for Jai and Standish to find the warehouse where the terrorist cell is located. Dressed all in black, tactical vests tight against them, Will and Frankie make their way into the building, silently taking down guards as they go. 

They get to a row of offices and Frankie can see a light at the end of the hallway. Standish tells them over comms that that’s where a large amount of energy is being radiated based on the satellites they have monitoring the area, so they head silently down that direction. 

There’s only two more guys with guns in the room and then a slightly older gentleman hunched over a table, putting together some kind of mechanism that Frankie can only assume is a bomb. If they can take out this guy: mission accomplished. 

Will’s ever present optimism must be rubbing off on Frankie because she’s starting to think that maybe this mission isn’t so bad and if they can wrap this up then maybe they can try that little hole-in-the-wall restaurant around the corner from their hotel later. 

Which is exactly when everything goes to shit. They’re not quick enough in a take down and Will gets spotted as he’s choking out one of the guards. Frankie can see the glorified henchman down the hall right in the moment that the other man spots Will. 

Later on she’ll deny vehemently why she did it, but as Will drops his assailant, Frankie breaks cover and shoves him into an open door and out of the hallway, just as the man at the end of the hallway fires off two shots. 

His aim is a little high and wide, but she feels the impacts in her right shoulder, a solid double tap that throws off her balance. One shot hits her vest but the other. The other definitely doesn’t. She fires with her offhand and brings the guard down and then stumbles into the doorway she’d just shoved Will through. 

She can’t move her arm and it hurts to breathe, but she does her best to check her gun as she shuts the door behind her. 

“What the hell, Frankie?!” Will whisper-yells at her. 

“Shut up!” she hisses back. There’s at least one more guard that they haven’t tracked down, plus the weapons manufacturer who surely has heard the commotion and is on the way out. “Echo, keep an eye on the exits.” Frankie speaks through her teeth, waving Will away as he makes his way to her. “September, Romeo, there’s more than one headed out of the building, including the target.” 

“What the hell is going on in there, guys?” Ray asks over the earpiece. “We heard gunshots.” 

“We’re fine,” Frankie says harshly. “Just grab the target.” 

“We are not fine,” Will exclaims, “Frankie’s been shot!” 

She can see the look of concern on his face, the same one as in France and she winces a little. “I’ll be alright,” she tries to say, but she still can’t breathe right and her whole arm is numb and she’s only up because her blood is mostly adrenaline right now.

“Juno, we need an extraction,” she hears Will say as she slumps back against the wall. Jai’s voice is static in her ears as he confirms the extraction team is on the way and she can barely even hear Standish tell them both that the weapons manufacturer has been contained. 

There’s a loud buzz in her ear and she struggles to holster her weapon, finally letting Will take over and feeling him fidget with holstering a gun backwards. There’s a warmth dripping from her fingers and when she looks down, there’s a pool of blood under her hand. 

“Will,” she says softly and he’s right there, right in her space and she still can’t breathe. 

“I know, it’s okay. Team is on the way to get us out of here and Standish says there’s no one else on the heat sensors.”

“Will,” she says again and it’s like breathing through a plastic bag. “I can’t breathe.” 

“Yeah, the bullet definitely punctured a lung,” he replied, pulling her uninjured arm over his shoulder and letting her rest her weight on him. He’s got one hand wrapped around the wrist hanging from his shoulder and the other gripping tight to her vest, fingers slipping in the blood that’s covering her side. 

Standish guides them through the building and soon enough they are back out into the night air. She’s starting to lose consciousness and is resting almost fully on in Will. “I thought I told you not to do this anymore,” Will says, voice quiet as he keeps an eye out for their ride. 

“Yeah,” is all she says back. “M’sorry.” Her voice slurs as she takes small breaths, her chest aching with every attempt to breathe. “You didn’t see him.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” he whispers harshly. 

“Does to me,”she whispers back and promptly loses consciousness. 

 

**_the pull_ **

Director Casey has pulled her from cases until the doctor clears her 110%, so she hasn’t been back to The Dead Drop in almost two weeks. Susan, Ray, and Standish had visited her in the hospital a few times and Susan has come over to her apartment with ice cream once or twice, so she at least got to see them. Jai was at the hospital every day until she was released and then came over exactly one time with a measuring tape, carefully measuring around her chest and arms, avoiding the bandages on her chest. She’s tried asking him what he was doing, but he’s just glared at her before muttering something about full coverage tactical vests, have her a soft hug, and then left. She knows he’s still checking on her though, because she tried to lift something heavier than a pillow one night and his voice had yelled at her from somewhere in her bookshelf. 

Will she hasn’t seen since her last day in the hospital. He’d practically been an extra nurse while she was admitted, but when she’d finally gotten her discharge papers, he’d gone MIA. She tries not to let it hurt, knows that he’s pissed beyond belief because he’d told her as much during one of his stays by her bedside, but she can’t help the flush of anger and sadness that he hasn’t come to see her. 

She’s been cooped up in her apartment for days and she’s starting to go a little stir crazy. At first she had slept a lot, working the drugs from the hospital out of her system and then later just letting her body recuperate. And then she watched a few shows that Susan had recommended followed by a few movies that Will would never find out about. But after about day twelve, which is progress in her case, she’s ready to at least get out of the apartment. 

It takes her most of the day to get ready because she keeps taking breaks to rest, ignoring the sighs of frustration from Jai’s bookshelf speakers. Taking a shower takes twice as long as usual, but the bullet hole in the space between her arm and breast is healing nicely. She’ll never forgive the guard for his wild and lucky shot that hit just on the outer edge of her vest, tearing through and puncturing her lung. 

In the end, she’s mostly clean, has run some deodorant under most of her armpits, and tossed some dry shampoo in her hair in an attempt to look mostly put together. She’s had to dig out an old zip up jacket that she just puts on over a tank top she’d struggled into before. Her pants are baggy but comfortable and she doesn’t bother untying her shoes before shoving her feet into them. Still by the time she’s done getting ready, it’s well into the evening. 

She pauses just before opening the door. “Jai?” she calls out with hope. It’s only a moment later that she hears a sigh and a tinny-sounding “Yes?”

“Is he home?”

There’s another pause but she’s patient and she’s rewarded with another heavy sigh from Jai and an affirmative. Nodding her thanks because she knows he can see her, she finally walks out of her apartment and heads towards Will’s. 

The walk to Will’s apartment from hers isn’t long, not that she’ll ever let him know that. She takes her time and stops halfway through at the Thai place she knows he likes, grabbing their regular order as a peace offering. 

Still, by the time she makes it to Will’s apartment, she’s slightly winded and has a sheen of sweat on her brow. She opts to take the elevator instead of the stairs, leaning against the cool wall as she watches the numbers tick up as the elevator rises along with her nerves. 

Frankie’s knock on his door is quick and loud and she can hear him hesitate on the other side, presumably checking the peephole, before he unlatches the door. 

She doesn’t smile when the door opens, but she does hold up the bag of food as a white flag between them. He looks surprised to see her but she watches as the surprise shifts to anger and he shifts on his feet in front of the door.

“What are you doing here, Frankie?” he asks, and he almost sounds disappointed in her. 

“I needed to get some fresh air and we haven’t had a movie night in awhile. I thought you wanted to show me “Sleepless in Seattle” or whatever.” 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks her over and he must notice her slight breathlessness and sheen of sweat because he squints his eyes for a second. “Did you walk here?” 

“Are you going to let me in?” 

Will sighs, but moves aside, grabbing the bag from her outstretched hand as she passes through. Frankie knows it shows a bit of weakness on her part, but she takes the opportunity to fold herself on Will’s couch, listening as he grabs plates and silverware for the two of them. She knows that even when he appears mad, he’s still welcoming. 

He doesn’t say anything as he sets plates and forks on his dining room table, but she can see the line of tension in his shoulders as he places the bag there as well. She thinks he’s going to sit near her, but she watches as he just stands and sighs heavily. 

“What are you really doing here, Frankie?” 

Frankie clenches her jaw and purses her lips, leaning back on the couch and dropping her gaze from him. “Look, Will, I understand you’re mad at me -”

“I’m not mad at you, Frankie, I’m disappointed.” Will interrupts. “I’ve asked you before not to do something stupid to put yourself in harm’s way and you went and did it again.” Will sits heavily on the couch next to her, shoulders slumped forward as he catches her eye. “Why would you do something like that?”

She knows he’s talking about what happened in Iceland, the elephant in the room of her pushing him out of the way, and her heart pounds harder in her chest. She doesn’t regret what she did, she could never regret saving his life, but she does hate that he’s so mad about it. “Will, he was going to kill you. You didn’t have line of sight on him and he would have shot you.” 

“That’s the nature of the job, Frankie. We always get shot at. _You_ have shot me!” 

Hearing her own words repeated back to her stings and the memory of having the shoot her partner makes it worse and she can’t help but wince. She stands harshly, pacing in front of him and around to the other side of his coffee table. “Please don’t throw my words back at me, you know it’s not the same thing.” 

“How is it not the same thing?” he asks as he follows her across the living room, stopping inches from her. “I’m just not understanding your thought process here. How is your life less valuable than mine?” 

Frankie shakes her head but doesn’t move. “That’s not - It’s not about the value of my life versus yours. It’s about not wanting to see my partner die when I can prevent it. You would have died, Will, plain and simple. You didn’t see the shooter and I did and I did what I had to do to keep you safe. Just like I always will. Don’t ask me to do anything different.” 

There’s a heaviness in the air when she finishes. This is the closest she’s come to expressing her feelings about Will to someone who isn’t Susan and it makes anxiety crawl across her skin in waves. She’s glad that it’s out there and she hopes that he won’t ask her to dig deeper, but she’s also worried that maybe it’s not enough. That perhaps he’s wants her to say those words that mean so much to him. 

She watches as Will swallows heavily in front of her. He squints at her again, this time in confusion, and cocks his head in a way that sends an annoying flutter through her stomach. He no longer looks angry and looking back later, she’ll remember seeing the slight mischievousness in his eyes. “Frankie,” he starts, mimicking her head shake. “Why?” 

She has to resist the urge to push away from him, to step out of their shared space to catch her breath and come up with something that won’t put her heart on the line. Her legs tingle with a restlessness that she ignores as she watches him for a moment longer. Where he was mad before, now he just looks patient and kind, as always, and her heart stutters in her chest. He’s waiting for her to say something he should already know. 

“Haven’t you figured that out by now?” she asks, shuffling slightly closer to him. She watches the range of emotion across his face and can’t look away from his lips as they slowly curl up into a smile of realization. 

His eyes track across her face, from the top of her forehead to her lips and she finds herself mirroring the action. Finally though, they catch each other’s eyes again. After a moment, he finally responds with a quiet “yeah” and moves himself closer to her. “But I want you to tell me.” 

She lets her own smile crawl across her face and rolls her eyes before bringing the arm on her uninjured side around his neck and pulling him in as close as she can, their bodies pressed together from thighs to shoulders. “You’re so annoying,” is all she says, in the space between their mouths, before pulling him down and pressing her lips against his, smile to smile.

**Author's Note:**

> i did my best


End file.
